Abbey's best birthdayever
by WWT
Summary: Abbey gets a suprise visit on her birthday and her biggest dream comes true.


This was done as a birthday present for my friend Abbey. Sorry, Abbey-cakes if fiction-Abbey doesn't really seem like you! I caouldn't really harness your wicked-awesomeness. (XD ok, I'll never use that nickname ever again, promise!)

Disclaimer- I do not own HP or any of the wicked awesome characters. I don't own Abbey, either! The main character of this story is based on a real life person, so I don't own her, really! XD If I did, I would prob'ly use her awesomeness-rays to dominate the world XD... It's late, just to warn you.

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Abbey blew her bangs irately as they once again mingled with the rest of her red-brown, russet hair. She liked it better the way it had been before she'd made the split second decision to cut it to reflect how she'd changed, that she was a year older. she missed her long tresses of hair, parted slightly to the side, streaks of brilliant purple randomly painting around the frame of her usually-grinning face.

She righted the locks once more. Looking around her small, dark room, she spotted the stack of crappy, helter-skelter gifts that her various family members had given her. A horrid sweater, some gloves and arm warmers she already had several pair of, giftcards to places she'd never consider _peeping a toe into _(she figured she'd melt upon even looking at them) let alone shopping at.

The only things she'd enjoyed recieving were from her friends, in particular a pair of utterly adorable, chibi drawings of her and her idol and long-time love, Dumbledore. They hung proudly on the walls by thumb tacks. She silently cursed her mother for not having any other way of mounting them on the walls. There was also the Fan fiction she had just finnished reading for the thousanth time that day, which was made by the same friend whom had done the doodles.

Abbey went back to tapping at the keyboard of her laptop, thanking them for the presents. She would _call _them... but it was around 12:00 now, so that was out of the question if she ever wanted to go over to their houses again. She said g'night and shut the device so that the light of the screen no longer burned her eyes.

"I wish he _were _real..." She muttered to herself as she looked over at her favorite of the two drawings; the one where he was kissing her cheek. She sighed for the umph-teenth time that even ing and crawled under the luxurious covers. _If her _were _real, I'd marry him no matter the age difference._ She was in love with a fictional character. A common, but unfortunate ailment. Abbey drifted off to dreams of Hogwarts and her favorite Headmaster.

She was awoken by a loud _**crack **_from down the hall. Curiosity got the better of her, she crept from her coffin of blankets and pillows, the carpet quieting her footsteps to a meer, barely audible, little _scrch_-ing noise. She inched towards her door and peeked out into the hall. There, in shimering, blue and violet robes, in all his fantastic glory, was Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore, the very object of her incessant crushing and infactuation, in the flesh.

Abbey's sharp intake of stunned breath attracted his attention. He smiled his kind, sincere, smiles and the russet-haired, pajama-clad teen had to grip the doorframe to steady herself. _This is a dream... _she thought. _It'll all end in a moment or two_... But it seemed so _real_. The tall man sauntered in her direction and her jelly-like legs finally gave way beneath her. As she collapsed, she clumsily hit her head on the wood of the door.

"OW!" As she rubbed her head, she suddenly froze. Pain. You can't feel pain in the dream realm. This was no dream... Dumbledore, the true Albus, was in her house, smiling at _her_. As if reading her mind, he offered her his creamy soft hand; she simply stared at it, trying to decide if it was in fact real. She looked up into the pale, expressive, twinkling eyes shrouded by the halfmoon glasses, then back down at the smooth, perfect hand. Slowly, as if testing thet it was solid, and not the hand of a ghost or some othersuch non-solid figure.

"Abbey, It is late. You should be in bed." She gawked, incapable of speech. Had her love just told her to get to bed? His hand rested on her shoulder as he steered her back to her soft cot. It was as if this was all some surreal trip, she was pretty well a vegetable right about now. Dazed still, she did as recommended, unable to control her body's functions. Dumbledore tucked her in. Finally, Abbey got her voice back.

"Sorry, Lo- I mean, Sir," She didn't want to push it, for all she knew, he was thinking more along the lines of 'family' "-but somehow, I doubt you came all the way from the school and your emence duties to tuck me in... surely." He simply smiled down at her and patted her on the head, looking around at the muggle version of a chambers. She took the pat on the head as a bit of a condescending gesture, but got over it as this was freaking DUMBLEDORE, here. "Did I?... Are you here to tell me That I'm..."

"No, dear Abbey. I am afraid to say that you indeed did not get a letter of admission via owlpost when you were 11 for a _reason_. You are one-hundred percent muggle." He grew a saddened expression and stroked her cheek soothingly. This could unfortunately, be explained as a 'family' thing, too. Her father had ddone it when she was extremely young. She frowned, confused still as to why he was here. He continued. "I am here, simply to say," his eyes glittered and glistened as he focused on her. "-Happy Birthday." he kissed her chastely on the forehead and she could smell the peculiar, flowery, and yet, masculine cologne that he was wearing. It completely suited him. It was that scent, wafting off of him, that caused her to finally be lulled off into a peaceful slumber.

When she awoke, Dumbledore was gone. She moved to rise from beneath the covers, eyes filled with tears, when

her hand hit something crisp and cold, and she herard the crunching of paper sound. It was a note, writen in elegant, loopy, beautiful script in deep black ink. It read:

_Dearest Abbey,_

_You are magic in yourself. You need no more. I could not help but to visit you last night and leave you the present you've longed for for so many years. You need no spell to charm this old scorcerer, dear girl._

_Yours__ truly,_

_Albus_

Tears welling now out of joy, the corner of her eyes soaked, Abbey swiped at her face. "Always knew he loved me..." she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. She gasped Her hair was no longer divided by irritating, unmanageable, bangs. She had her old hair back, the purple as vibrant as ever, as if she'd just gotten it done. She noticed a sticky note attatched to the pane of reflective glass. It was from _him_.

_I noticed you kept getting bothered by the bangs, _

_so I decided to give you and actual present, also._

_Your love,_

_Albie~_

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Happy birthday Abbey! Hope your special day is great.

With love and best wishes,

Wolfie 3


End file.
